As the speaker in the video wraps up her lesson, she prays. All of us in the room grow quiet, listening in. The screen grows dark and before anyone launches the discussion questions, a friend speaks up.
“Sorry you all had to sit through that,” she grins, “because that was just for me.”
I know what she means.
One of the amazing abilities of our Lord is reaching out to us individually while reaching out to us all.
His sweet love and unique relationship with each of His children involves personal gifts and private moments. There are inside jokes and memories that hold us warmly, tucked into his care.
One of the kindest, more precious things the Lord has taught me is this: He doesn’t just care for me, He cares about me.
Sometimes the sunrise’s streak of gold peeking over the trees is just for me.
The weather isn’t what everyone wanted, but He did it for me. I asked last night.
Whoever donated those exact boots to the thrift store didn’t know it, but they were just for me, an unexpected gift from the Lord.
My husband’s shoulder, though not his own selection, isn’t too large or too small. It’s just right- made, I believe, just for me and my heavy head.
As I speak to God on a matter, asking a specific question, He rephrases it back to me with an answer through the song on the radio proclaiming truth I need in that moment. The lyrics are familiar, but that time, He played it just for me.
At the end of one Saturday, I am tired of struggling to surrender something to Him and I’ve grown weary from the humbling that’s been happening. The reason I press on is the commitment I’ve made to obey Him in this matter. Settling into bed, I open a book I’ve been struggling to enjoy, one I’ve grown weary of plodding through. I’m reading it only because I committed to making it all the way through.
The chapter rubs salve on my soul. Words just for me, custom shaped from an author’s keyboard to my aching heart by the Lord’s own hands.
I open the good book, the only one I’m known to actually hug goodnight, and open to the page I left off on. This is His word, active and alive, and it quickly enfolds those feelings of fear in the triumphant embrace of the one who died just for me. Words spoken a couple thousand years ago, spoken right now to me by the same Savior.
In the words of the Isaiah 25:1, “Lord, you are my God.”
And because of Christ, I’m more than your creation. I’m your child. Do you know if you’re His child, too? As His child, do you see God’s good gifts- the just for you kind?
It’s a precious thing, that He cares so much for just me and just you.
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